If This is Quality Programming, Why am I Yawning?
What does that mean - quality programming? And who exactly is
deciding that for us? We, the masses, optimistically think good
quality, or high quality when we hear that word, yet the phrase
is used in relation to television shows that would never be
considered Prime Time material.
Apparently Prime Time programs are chosen for their
entertainment value, not their "quality" which means that
laughter (oh, those sitcoms!) or excitement (catch that bad guy,
Keifer) don't count when adding up the elements of quality
programming. Instead, that term appears to be reserved for the
low-budget, high-disinterest documentaries viewers happen upon
by accident, or by lack of turning the channel in a timely
manner at the end of a more entertaining program, or because
"there's nothing on."
I once watched a show called Cowboy Poets. It was on the
television and I caught bits of it when I walked by (now and
then, I'd stop to watch with freakish fascination). Men with
dried apple faces and leather necks wore checkered shirts, felt
or straw hats, and drawled out poems on the life of a cowboy.
Bulls, cows, horses, rodeos, ranches, sun ups and downs, homes
on ranges, Betty Lou's apple pie - they didn't miss a
stereotypical beat. Other wizened ranchers, the non-poets who
knew a good-sounding poem when they heard one, by golly, talked
about how they loved the poetry of a true cowboy, the kind who
could capture, with eloquence, the nature of a cowboy's life.
Personally, "eloquent" is not a word I would have teamed with
"cowboy." I have nothing against drawls, or cowboys in
particular, or even poetry, but the combination can be a little
startling when you're not expecting it.
It's nice to know we all have our niches, but I will never be
brought to tears by the poetry of a cowboy - at least, not for
the same reasons they'd be. I found the program to be mildly
boring since drawled poems, in my opinion, sound remarkably like
a whole lot of droning. In fact, it sounds sort of like the
western version of the Gregorian chant, which I understand some
people love, though I will never fathom why. So, freakishly
fascinating, sure, but quality programming? That's still
debatable.
Since that ever-so interesting program aired, I have
inadvertently found myself watching other such unexpected
"treasures." Did you know that simply by turning on your
television, you can learn about the mating rituals of bees, the
growth rates of various types of lawn grass, and even learn how
a doorknob is made? There are even some home renovating programs
available where you can watch paint dry. (Paige Davis and Ty
Pennington shows excluded since they definitely have elements of
anti-quality entertainment value.)
Not long ago, I watched a documentary about Vancouver Island,
Canada, and its smaller, surrounding islands. If the year was
1972, and I was a school teacher, I'd have felt as though I hit
the mother lode for a grade six geography lesson. The facts were
presented (and narrated) with the precision only found in
dryly-worded text books and school-board-approved film
accompaniments, replete with the deep-voiced announcer (made
famous in scratchy reels of the sixties).
I was watching the program with wide-eyed psuedo-interest,
simply because of my fascination that such a dull documentary
could actually be aired. I know from personal experience that
Vancouver Island is an incredibly beautiful place, but I'd never
have known it had that film been my first introduction to the
island.
Now, there's a documentary on about the (yawn) amazing life of
Jake Penopscott. Never heard of him? Are you serious? Okay, well
neither have I. But, apparently, The Great They have deemed this
stranger a quality kinda' guy.
So, have I been watching quality programming? Good quality - not
really. Bad quality - I am leaning in that direction. I'll just
stifle this huge yawn and give it some quality thought.